


From This Day Forward

by TheGreatSporkWielder



Series: Me and Mrs. You [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Evil!Ross, Explicit Language, F/M, Kidnapping, Schmoop, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatSporkWielder/pseuds/TheGreatSporkWielder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why are you not freaking out and telling me that we have to divorce now because the Other Guy will squash me or that stupid General asshole is going to kidnap me or something?"</p><p>Bruce and Darcy are settling into married life, but Darcy's words end up being far more prophetic than either of them could have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Will Cherish You

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! A SEQUEL! Yay! So, "Vegas" was SUPER FLUFFY, but I plan that this story will be more angst and action and stuff. 
> 
> Story and Chapter titles taken from various wedding vows.

“So, what did you want to go see?” Bruce asked, craning his head to look at the marquee as they stood in line. The two of them hadn’t had a date night in _weeks,_ not since they’d returned from Las Vegas, due to Tony roping Bruce into some Sciency Lab Thing, and Hulk’s Avengers duties (not to mention Pepper dragging them off to take care of all the legal ramifications of their surprise elopement), and they were both rather relieved to get some time to themselves, without Steve making remarks about the future pitter-patter of baby Banner feet, or Thor offering to train up any new warriors brought into the Avengers family, or even JARVIS (the traitor) reminding them of their promise to make him a godfather.

 

“ _Men in Black 3_?” Darcy suggested. “I love Will Smith.”

 

Bruce turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “Really?” he asked dryly. “A movie about a secret group that fights off aliens who want to destroy the earth?”

 

“Well, when you put it _that_ way,” said Darcy, “I guess it would be kind of a waste.”

 

“What about that Snow White movie?” Bruce pointed to one of the posters hanging on the front of the theater.

 

Darcy snorted. “Yeah, like _anyone’s_ gonna believe that Charlize fucking Theron wishes she looked more like that _Twilight_ chick.”

 

“It’s a movie,” said Bruce, shrugging. “That’s what suspension-of-disbelief is for.”

 

“That dude in it kinda looks like Thor,” said Darcy, musingly, gazing at the poster, chewing on a piece of her hair.

 

“Stop that,” Bruce said reprovingly, reaching over to bat her hair out of her mouth.

 

“Excuse me,” said a voice behind them. Bruce and Darcy turned to see a woman about Bruce’s age smiling at them. “I just wanted to say that I think it’s very sweet of you to take your daughter out to a movie.”

 

Bruce flushed and dropped his gaze to his feet, taking a step away from Darcy, and Darcy’s jaw clenched and her nostrils flared. “I’m not his _daughter,”_ she said frostily.

 

Bruce hated it whenever their age difference was mentioned; he’d always been self-conscious of the fact that he was dating (and, now, married to) a woman technically young enough to be his daughter. It had taken Darcy some time to convince Bruce that the bit of grey at his temples and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were sexy and that she’d always had a thing for men with a little more, ahem, _experience,_ without everyone pointing it out and making him feel like some kind of pervert. For crying out loud, it had been hard enough to convince him to have anything to do with her in the first place, what with the Hulk and all, without bringing up their _ages._

 

And, oh, dammit, now his fingers were twitching, like they always did when he was _really_ embarrassed. Finger-twitching always led to Bruce locking himself up in the lab all night long. Darcy was _so_ going to kill this woman for ruining her date night, especially since she’d totally planned on ravishing Bruce to within an inch of his life as soon as they got home.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the woman pleasantly, blissfully unaware of the havoc she was causing, eyeing Bruce in a way that made Darcy contemplate whether or not to try out that move Natasha had taught her last week. “Niece, then?”

 

Darcy looped her right arm around Bruce’s waist possessively and thrust her left hand out towards the woman. “I’m his _wife,_ bitch, so you can stop eye-fucking him anytime, now.”

 

“ _Darcy,”_ Bruce hissed, flushing even redder.

 

“What?” she asked, eyes still boring holes through the woman, whose mouth had dropped open and whose gaze was now darting between Bruce and Darcy in disbelief. “She totally was. And no one gets to dream of someday having your genius, fluffy-haired babies except _me.”_

 

“I-I’m sorry,” the woman stammered. “My mistake.” Her face was nearly as red as Bruce’s at this point, and she gave a sigh of relief when her phone rang, turning to answer it with an almost frantic “Hello?”

 

Darcy, her arm still around Bruce’s waist, turned them back to face the front. “It’s not fair,” she said.

 

“What’s not?” asked Bruce, finally taking his eyes off the ground and settling them on her.

 

“You’re not supposed to feel like a perv,” she said. “I hate it that you feel ashamed to love me.”

 

“I don’t…I’m not ashamed,” Bruce protested, finally raising his own arm to drape it across her shoulders.

 

“You know what I mean,” Darcy countered. “You feel like there’s something wrong with you because of our ages; like, if I was ten or fifteen years older, you’d be okay with making out with me in public without worrying about people looking at you like you’re Hef, but, like, _judgmentally,_ rather than, ‘Hey, look at that guy; he must be awesome to have landed such a babe.’”

 

“We get that, too,” said Bruce. “I wish people would just say, ‘Oh, look at that married couple, isn’t that nice,’ and that could be the end of it. No making me out to be either a creep or Casanova. Not to mention the things they say about _you._ ”

 

“People are stupid,” Darcy declared with an imperious toss of her hair, snuggling closer. “Fuck the haters, honey.”

 

The corners of Bruce’s lips turned up, and, out of the corner of her eye, Darcy saw his hand relax. “That’s pretty much your motto, isn’t it?” he asked.

 

“Hey, I’m pretty sure it’s Hulk’s motto, too,” Darcy replied.

 

“No, I think his is ‘ _Smash_ the haters,’” said Bruce, his smile widening a bit.

 

“Same dif,” said Darcy carelessly. “Either way, it’s served us well. You should try it sometime; it’s very cathartic.”

 

“I don’t really need to, though,” he replied, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I’ve got you to rescue me from them.”

 

“Rescue you, huh?” Darcy said, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

 

“My hero,” he replied fondly, turning to kiss her fully.

 

 


	2. I Will Stay with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's time for your post-wedding freak-out, isn't it? I knew this would happen eventually; you were taking it way too well before.”

“I've been thinking,” said Bruce a few days after the incident at the movie theater, as Darcy walked into their living room.

 

“A dangerous pastime,” Darcy quipped, as she kicked off her shoes and joined him on the couch, curling her legs underneath her. “What about?”

 

“Us,” said Bruce.

 

“Oh, great, here we go,” said Darcy, rolling her eyes, propping her elbow up on the back of the couch and resting her hand against the side of her head. “It's time for your post-wedding freak-out, isn't it? I _knew_ this would happen eventually; you were taking it _way_ too well before.”

 

“Darcy--”

 

“'The Other Guy's gonna smash you, Darcy; somebody's gonna cut off your head and send it to me in a box,' blah blah blah.” She sat up straight and glared at him. “We _had_ this conversation back when we started dating, remember? I'm going to tell you the _same thing_ I told you back then.” She reached out with both hands and placed them on either side of his face, forcing him to meet her gaze, her eyes softening as she saw the concern in his. “I _won't_ let you and the Other Guy be martyrs, Bruce,” she said, softly but firmly. “You _deserve_ to be happy. The Other Guy deserves to be happy. Hell, _I_ deserve to be happy.”

 

“You do,” Bruce replied fervently, reaching up to cover her hand with his, turning his head to kiss her palm. “But I _do_ have enemies, very _dangerous_ ones, and them coming after you is a valid concern. You deserve better than worrying about whether your husband is going to crush you in a fit of rage, or that you might get abducted by some of Ross's covert ops guys on your way to yoga or--”

 

“Okay, stop right there. _”_ Darcy interrupted. “First off, the Other Guy would _never_ hurt me. He loves me, too, remember? He knows not to harm me, just like he knows not to smash the rest of the team.”

 

“Sure, he knows,” said Bruce. “That doesn't mean there's not a chance that he's going to get carried away by the rage and excitement and accidentally drop a semi on your head.” 

 

“If it'll make you feel better,” said Darcy, “next time I see him, I'll make sure he remembers to verify that everyone is out of the way before he smashes anything. And, may I remind you, I've got a whole _team_ of superheroes watching me like hawks; I can't even go to the vending machine in the lobby without Steve suddenly deciding he's in the mood for some peanut M&M's, for God's sake, much less yoga, which, hmmm, isn't it a coincidence that _Natasha_ is taking the same Intro to Yoga class I am, despite the fact that she can twist herself like a pretzel.”

 

“I just want--”

 

“And what's this 'better' shit?” Darcy continued, ignoring Bruce's attempts to get a word in edgewise now that she was on a roll. “Better than what? Better than a man who lets his hair grow out until he actually _looks_ like a mad scientist because he knows I like to run my fingers through it? A man who, despite having an IQ of, like, seven hundred--”

 

“One-eighty-nine.”

 

“\--takes the time to dumb down astrophysics and molecular engineering for me, even though I can hardly remember the difference between a proton and an electron, so I don't feel like such a fucking idiot when I'm hanging out in the lab? Okay, so, say I leave you, and then what? I end up with a part-time job as a clerk in, like, middle-of-nowhere, Ohio, and marry an accountant or some shit, and spend the rest of my _normal, safe_ life content to, like, crochet booties and watch for news footage of you on TV?” She swung one leg over his, shifted until she was sitting square in his lap, and tilted his head up with her hands to keep their eyes locked. “Fuck that. If this so-called 'better' life you want me to have means I'm not with you, I _don't want it.”_

 

“Darcy--”

 

“ _No.”_ she took a hand off his cheek and pressed one finger to his lips. “No, Bruce. I'm a big girl. I am fully aware of the risks I'm taking being with you. But I _want_ to take them. I _want_ to be your wife. 'For better or for worse,' right? You're totally fucking worth every possible danger, Bruce Banner, so for God's sake, shut the fuck up, or I'll start to think you don't want me anymore.” 

 

“No!” he protested, bringing his hands up to settle gently on her hips. “I could never--”

 

“Good.” She took her hand away from his mouth and curled it along his jaw. “Because my new driver's license came in the mail today, and I do _not_ want to have to go back there and switch my name back. That was such a fucking hassle, and the people at the Secretary of State's office are jerks. Besides, 'Darcy Banner' really _does_ sound nice, _and_ my photo is actually halfway decent. Do you know how often that happens? _Never._ It's a _sign,_ honey.” 

 

Bruce just sighed, pressed his forehead to hers, and slid his hands around to her back. “I'm still going to worry about you,” he said, resigned.

 

“That's okay,” she said. “You wouldn't be you if you weren't worrying about _something._ But rather than tell me we should divorce so you can spend your life sad and alone, you should channel your concerns into making love to me like there's no tomorrow.” 

 

“I should?” he said, tilting his face to kiss her gently.

 

“Mmmhmm,” she murmured against his lips, linking her fingers together behind his neck. “I think that would be a _much_ healthier outlet, don't you, Doctor Banner?” 

 

“I don't know, Mrs. Banner,” he replied, slowly sliding his hand up her back to tangle in her hair. “But it's certainly a theory worth testing.” 

 

 

 


	3. I Will Protect You From Harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy smashes Clint, and talks with Hulk, who makes a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRE is _done_ , bitches! And I did a decent job on it, too; so YAY! Thanks for your good wishes. :)

“Alright, Darcy,” said Clint, “now, we're going to try that again. Remember, don't worry about hurting me, and don't be afraid to fight dirty. If you're trying to get away from someone, it's perfectly fine to bite them, pull their hair, poke them in the eyes, or knee them in the balls. Just ask Natasha.”

 

“Got it,” Darcy said, swiping a hand across her forehead to wipe away some of the sweat. “Let's do this.”

 

“I'm not your friend Clint,” he prodded. “I'm--”

 

“--an evil bastard who wants to murder me? I said I got it.”

 

“Okay,” Clint replied. He walked around until he was behind Darcy; then, without warning, he pulled Darcy's ponytail until her head snapped back, and wrapped one muscular arm around her neck. He yanked her towards him, wrapping his other arm around her waist, until Darcy could feel his hard body pressing into her own.

 

“What are you going to do now?” Clint whispered in her ear.

 

“Try to distract you from my neck,” Darcy replied, croaking a little as Clint's arm pressed against her windpipe. “Like, stomp on your foot or kick you in the nuts.”

 

“Good. What else?”

 

“Definitely do _not_ try to pry your arm off,” Darcy said, as though reciting something from memory. “Because that keeps you focused on your objective; and you're stronger than I am, anyway, so it's not like I could actually loosen your arm, and that means I'm wasting my strength.”

 

“Right again. Now, try to get away. And remember, I'm an evil bastard. Don't pull your punches.”

 

Darcy gave a tiny nod, and then stomped on Clint's foot. He twitched, but did not release his grip. Darcy bent her arm and jammed her elbow sharply back into Clint's stomach, which caused Clint to bend over enough for Darcy to slam the back of her head into his nose as hard as she could. He gave a little gasp of pain and loosened his hold on Darcy, giving her enough time to hook her foot around his ankle and pull, causing him to lose his balance and fall back onto the mat with an “oomph.” She jumped out of his reach and raised one arm in victory. “Yes! I finally did it!” she crowed triumphantly.

 

“Damn it, I think you broke my nose,” Clint complained as he sat up.

 

“My mom always told me I was hard-headed,” said Darcy, grinning cheekily, rubbing the back of her head. “I would apologize, but that was kind of the point, right? Plus, you're an evil bastard.”

 

Clint rolled his eyes, prodding gently at his sore nose as he got back to his feet. His eyes landed on something behind Darcy, and he stiffened, his gaze turning guarded. “Hello,” he said cautiously.

 

Darcy turned to see Hulk coming into the training room. “Hi!” she called cheerfully. “Did you see that?”

 

“ **Darcy smash Arrow Man?”** Hulk asked, confused, stopping when he was about ten feet away from her. He glanced at Clint. Clint gave him a small wave and a rueful smile.

 

“Damn straight, I did,” said Darcy smugly, walking over to Hulk and reaching up to give him a peck on the shoulder. “Smashed him right in the nose.”

 

“And, with _that_ humiliation,” said Clint good-naturedly, “I'm gonna go take a shower, and then go yell at someone for apparently going on a mission without me. Same time tomorrow, Darcy?”

 

“Sure,” she replied. Clint smiled and walked out of the gym.

 

Darcy turned back to Hulk. “Hey, you. Long time, no see.”

 

**“Why?”**

“Why what?”

 

**“Why Darcy smash Arrow Man?”**

“He and Natasha are teaching me to fight, remember? So you and Bruce don't have to worry about me being such a damsel in distress anymore.”

**“Hulk not worried.”**

“Well, _thank_ you, sweetie. Nice to know _you_ have some faith in me.”

 

**“Hulk will protect Darcy. Hulk smash whoever hurt Darcy.”**

“Hmph,” Darcy grumbled, plopping down to sit on the mat. “So, it's not that you think I can take care of myself, it's that you plan on being there to protect me.”

 

Hulk nodded as he lowered himself to sit next to her. **“Darcy strong. Bad men stronger.”**

 

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him. “ _You_ aren't going to try to convince me to leave you for my own good, are you?”

 

**“Why would Hulk do that?”**

“ _Bruce_ did. Yesterday.”

 

Hulk snorted. **“Banner stupid. Hulk not stupid. _Hulk_ not order Darcy to leave us.” **

 

“That's good to know,” she said, smiling. “And Bruce isn't stupid, he's just worried that I'll get targeted by enemies or that you'll get all excited and accidentally drop a car on me or something.”

 

Hulk looked insulted. **“Hulk _never_ hurt Darcy. Hulk _loves_ Darcy.” **

 

Darcy beamed. “That's what _I_ said. And I love you, too.” She raised herself to her knees and stretched up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

 

He gave her a shy smile. Then his brow furrowed. **“Banner not wrong about bad men.”**

 

“Oh, no, you don't,” said Darcy, poking him in the chest. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, _thank_ you very much, and I'm already being smothered by superheroes and their over-protectiveness. I need _one_ person who _doesn’t_ think that I'm the goddamn Princess Peach of this operation.”

 

**“Who Princess--?”**

“Never mind. But promise me that you are _not_ going to stalk me like a creepy stalker every time I get the urge for a scone from the corner bakery.”

 

**“Hulk not stalk.”**

“Thank you.”

 

**“Hulk _follow.”_**

Darcy couldn't help but laugh at that. “Semantics, huh? Cheeky bastard. Well, _fine._ No _following_ me, either.”

 

Hulk frowned. **“Hulk promised to protect Darcy,”** he said solemnly. “ **Must keep promise.”**

 

Darcy arched an eyebrow at him. “And just when did _this_ happen?”

 

He looked slightly confused. **“In shiny place,”** he said, as though Darcy should already know.

 

“Shiny place?”

 

Hulk nodded. **“Darcy and Banner go to shiny place. Make promises.”**

 

Darcy's jaw dropped. “You mean our _wedding vows?”_

 

He nodded again, looking rather nervous. **“Banner swear to protect Darcy. Hulk swear, too.”**

 

Darcy smiled. “Well,” she said warmly, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I suppose that's okay, then.” She pulled back suddenly and asked, “I didn’t swear to _obey,_ did I? ‘Cause if so, we’ve got a problem.” 


	4. For Better or For Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Really? Commandos on my way to yoga? Bruce is so going to say ‘I told you so.’ "

Darcy really hated Natasha sometimes. It wasn’t really very reasonable, because it wasn’t Natasha’s fault that she had the body of a model and, even in workout clothes, exuded that ‘You’ll Never Touch This, So Don’t Even Bother Trying’ Ice-Queen vibe that men apparently found irresistible. The only time Darcy had ever sent out anything even partially resembling an Ice Queen vibe was when she’d worn a “Maid of Honor” tiara to an ice bar for her friend Chandelle’s bachelorette party in Orlando her sophomore year of college.  Over the last three blocks, Darcy had counted at least five heads turning to watch Natasha as the two of them walked by on their way to the yoga studio.  How many had stopped to watch Darcy? _None._ So unfair.

 

 “It’s really kind of annoying,” Natasha said suddenly. “Just so you know.”

 

“What is?” Darcy asked, jumping slightly as Natasha’s voice startled her from her thoughts. She pushed her mat carrier a little higher on her shoulder, and was momentarily distracted as she then had to detangle it from her purse strap.

 

“The staring,” Natasha replied. “I’d deal with it, but SHIELD doesn’t like it when I leave broken bodies in my wake unless I absolutely have to, and Fury’s already told me that ‘he was staring at my ass’ is no longer considered a valid reason to put a guy in the hospital.”  

 

“Oh,” said Darcy, wondering just how many guys Natasha _had_ put in the hospital for checking out her ass to cause Fury to have to talk to her about it. “I mean, I know a little bit about it,” she continued, “because I get guys staring at my boobs all the time, but it’s more because they’re kind of _right there in your face_ than that they’re so spectacular.”

 

Natasha gave Darcy an amused sidelong glance, flicked her gaze down to Darcy’s chest, and her lips twisted in a tiny smirk. “I’ll bet Banner thinks they are,” she said dryly.

 

 Darcy didn’t reply, but the mischievous curl of her lips answered for her.

 

“So you guys are alright, then? Not that I care all that much, or want details, or anything, _please,_ no; but even though it’s been a couple months, it all happened so fast and Banner doesn’t seem like the impulsive type.”

 

“ _God,_ no,” Darcy laughed. “He’s _such_ a planner; it kind of drives me nuts. I mean, I’m the kind of person who would call up my friends and go, ‘Hey, let’s do a pub crawl; yeah, I know it’s already 10:30 on a Tuesday, but whatever.’ Bruce, though? He used to pencil our dates into his calendar, like, two weeks in advance. And I’m pretty sure he had them all scheduled out, right down to the minute, like one of his experiments, you know?  The whole spur-of-the-moment elopement thing? Yeah, that just proves how _super_ drunk he was that night. But, yeah, we’re okay, now.”

 

“Good,” said Natasha. “I thought he might freak out about it, and the last thing we need is a twitchy Banner on the team.”

 

“Oh, he did spazz a few weeks ago.” Darcy shrugged carelessly. “I knew he would. But we worked it out.” 

 

“Good,” said Natasha again. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’m not really into the whole love and marriage thing—“

 

“No, _really? Never_ would’ve guessed that, _”_ Darcy teased.

 

Natasha just gave her a Look and continued. “—but I think you’re good for him. Them? Both of him? Whatever.”  She made a casual, yet graceful, gesture with her hand. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Thanks,” Darcy said, smiling, as she felt her cheeks flush with pride. “That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

 

Natasha opened her mouth to reply, but as her eyes caught something over Darcy’s shoulder, she stiffened. “Darcy,” she said, her voice low, “when I tell you to, duck.”

 

Darcy nodded quickly, her eyes darting around. “What’s going on?” she hissed.

 

“Don’t panic,” replied Natasha, her own eyes scanning the area, “but we’re being followed.”

 

Darcy’s heart started beating faster, and she gulped. “Who is it?”

 

Natasha didn’t answer, but her grip tightened on the strap of her yoga mat. The muscles of her shoulders bunched as she coiled, ready to spring into action. “Duck,” she ordered. Darcy obeyed, and Natasha’s mat made a smacking noise as it hit someone behind Darcy. Darcy looked up to see Natasha, now engaged in a fight with a stocky guy in military fatigues.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Darcy, exasperated. “Really? Commandos on my way to yoga? Bruce is _so_ going to say ‘I told you so.’ Damn it.”

 

“Darcy, _run!”_ Natasha yelled, as she punched the man she was fighting in the nose, knocking him to the ground. “Get back to SHIELD! Hurry!”

 

Darcy didn’t stay to watch any more; she turned and ran as fast as she could, thankful that the daily workouts she’d been getting had left her in decent shape.  Her yoga mat slid down her arm, and she dropped it, not even glancing back to see where it landed.

 

She’d run about a block when a large hand reached out and snatched her arm.

 

“That’s her,” said a voice, and Darcy was dragged unceremoniously into an alley. “Your source was right, sir.”

 

“And just _where_ do you think you’re going, _Mrs. Banner_?” Another, deeper voice spat out her married name as if it disgusted him.

 

She turned to see an older man, dressed in fatigues like the guy Natasha was fighting, glowering down at her. His grip tightened on her arm, and she was pretty sure she was going to have bruises there, later.  She spent a couple seconds trying to twist out of his grip, but he tightened it even further, causing her to gasp in pain. “Oh, no. You’re not going _anywhere,”_ he said. “You are _just_ what I need to get Bruce Banner to give me what I want.”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Okay, asshole,” she snarled. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but I am _not_ about to let you make Bruce’s guilt complex even worse.” Just as she was about to bust out the moves she’d been practicing, she felt the prick of a needle at her neck, and the world around her faded to black. 


	5. I Will Always Be Here for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dr. Banner,” Fury said, and his tone instantly put Bruce on his guard. “You need to remain calm.”

“Sorry,” Bruce said, holding up his phone as he came into the conference room. “I’m running a bit late. I got your text, Director Fury, but it wasn’t very informative. What’s going on….” he trailed off as the rest of the team turned to look at him, expressions ranging from sympathetic (Steve) to wary (Clint). Natasha, still in her workout clothes, didn’t seem to notice his arrival; she was holding an ice pack to her eye as she paced up and down the length of the room, swearing in Russian under her breath.

 

“Natasha,” he said, surprised. “Is everything okay? I thought you and Darcy were supposed to be at yoga.”

 

“Эта сволочь,” Natasha hissed as she paced even faster, the hand not holding the ice pack clenched into a tight fist. 

 

Bruce turned confused eyes to Fury. “Why is she here? What’s going on?”

 

Fury was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dr. Banner,” he said, and his tone instantly put Bruce on his guard. “You need to remain calm.”

 

“Calm?” said Bruce, his heart speeding up a bit, as though in defiance to Fury’s order. “Why calm?”

 

“There’s been an…incident,” said Fury.

 

“What _kind_ of incident?” Bruce asked suspiciously. He could feel the Other Guy beginning to stir in the back of his mind. “Where’s Darcy?”

 

“Darcy’s been…taken,” Fury said slowly. “We’re still trying to figure out who did it.”

 

“Ради Бога,” said Natasha, exasperated, pulling the ice pack away from her face and tossing it onto the table. She switched to English. “We know _damn_ well who did it, Director.” 

 

“Considering who it is,” said Fury, raising a hand in a conciliatory gesture, “we need to be _absolutely certain_ before we do anything rash. I don’t want the whole United States government coming down on me for a misunderstanding.”

 

“Who is it?” asked Bruce, dread beginning to build. The Other Guy, sensing this, began scrambling further into the front of Bruce’s mind, and Bruce had to take a few deep breaths to push him back down, even as his heart began pounding loudly in his ears.

 

“They were definitely military,” said Natasha, sinking into a chair. “If the fatigues hadn’t given them away, the combat training would have. Fucking bastards got the drop on me. No one _ever_ gets the drop on me. Fucking _Loki_ didn’t, but a fucking asshole _general_ and his fucking band of boytoys can?”  She began muttering furiously in Russian again and pounded her fist on the table. Clint leaned over to whisper in her ear, but she turned a fierce glare on him and he settled back into his chair with a sigh.

 

“Ross,” Bruce breathed, his alarm spiking even higher. “I _knew_ it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it, I _told_ Darcy this would happen. I _told_ her being with me was dangerous.”

 

“Hey,” Steve objected. “It’s not your fault, Bruce. She was in danger _before_ she ever got involved with you. She works for SHIELD, after all. Besides, she’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions.”

 

“And,” added Clint, raising his eyebrow at Bruce, “from what I’ve heard, it’s not as though you had much of a choice in the matter, anyway.”

 

“Does _everyone_ know about that?” asked Bruce.

 

“Yes,” said Fury. “But that’s not the point. It’s been confirmed; so right now, our objective is to find Ross and get your wife back.”

 

“How did he even _know?”_ asked Bruce. “I mean, we filed the paperwork, so he could’ve known I was married, but how did he know what Darcy looked like? Or wherehe could’ve found her? _”_

“There’s a mole somewhere, probably,” said Tony, whose clipped tones belied the casual way he was draped across his chair. “You know, you really should run better background checks on your people, Fury.”

 

Fury’s eye narrowed in anger. “We’ll certainly look into that in the future, Mr. Stark,” he said tightly. “Right now, your first order of business is to find that mole and get them to talk,” he continued, steel in his voice. “We need to know where Ross would have taken her, and why.”

 

Natasha’s whole body stiffened. “Can I use any means necessary, _sir_?” she asked, voice hard.

 

Fury’s lips twisted. “ _Try_ not to kill them,” he said, reluctantly. “Or cause them any… _permanent_ damage. We’ll need whatever information they can give us.”

 

“You don’t need your _fingers_ to speak,” said Natasha coldly as she traced her hand along a dusty smudge on the tabletop.

 

“Keep them intact, Romanov,” Fury ordered. “Beat ‘em up, dangle them out the window if you want, but nothing that can’t heal. We can’t risk Ross’s retaliation.” Natasha huffed, but settled back into her seat without further argument.

 

With each passing moment, as Bruce thought of what Ross might do to Darcy, might be doing to her at this very minute, his panic mounted and his hold over the Other Guy grew weaker and weaker. He bent over, gripping the edge of the table as he struggled for control. He could feel himself about to lose the battle over the Other Guy, who was practically snarling in anger and fear at this point, when suddenly two strong hands gripped the sides of his face and his head was tilted up until he met Thor’s steady gaze.

 

“Friend Hulk,” said Thor, his blue eyes gentle, “I know you are worried about the Lady Darcy. We are concerned for her, as well. But we need Banner right now. We need him to help us _find_ the men who took your lady wife. I give you my word, as soon as we find her, you can help us rescue her and together we shall rain down destruction upon the enemy who has taken her from you and caused her harm. But at this moment, we need you to stay where you are. We will not be able to find her without Banner’s assistance.”

 

The Other Guy grumbled and growled in Bruce’s head, but he grudgingly settled down, as close to the edge of Bruce’s control as he could get without breaking free. Bruce took a few deep breaths, and then nodded gratefully at Thor, who slowly removed his grip from Bruce’s face. “We’re okay for now,” said Bruce, his voice shaking from the effort to keep the Other Guy in check. “But don’t announce that you know where she is until it’s okay for him to come out because he’s ready and he won’t wait a moment longer than he has to.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google tells me that "Эта сволочь" means "That bastard" and is pronounced _Eta svoloch_ , and "Ради Бога" means "For God's sake" and is pronounced _Radi Boga_. Again, I speak no Russian, so correct me if I'm wrong. :)


	6. I Will Fight For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As far as I’m concerned, Bruce Banner's blood is the property of the United States government and he is a traitor to this country by withholding such valuable resources. And I hate traitors.”

Darcy awoke slowly, groaning. Her head felt fuzzy, like her skull had been filled with cotton balls. She hadn’t had a hangover like this since her wedding night. She cracked her eyes open and saw a single bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling, glowing dimly.  “Where am I?” she muttered. She looked around and saw that she seemed to be in a basement. She could see the bare cinderblock walls of the tiny room, and a small window up near the ceiling along the wall opposite her. A pale stream of sunlight trickled through the window, but did not add any light to the glow from the bulb above her. “What the fuck just happened?” she wondered aloud.

 

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” said a deep voice. “Welcome back, Mrs. Banner.”

 

She turned to see the old military guy who’d grabbed her arm in the alley coming in the door. Darcy tried to sit up and realized that her hands had been yanked above her head and tied to the frame of the small bed she was lying on.

 

“What’s going on?” she demanded as the fuzziness started to leave her brain. “Untie me! Where am I? Who the hell are you?” 

 

“Don’t you know who I am?” he replied, raising an inquiring eyebrow. “Or did your beast of a husband not tell you?”

 

“Don’t insult Bruce, asshole,” Darcy said, aiming a vicious kick in his direction. “And if I knew, I wouldn’t be asking, so just stop with the whole Mysteriously Evil routine. You’re not a fucking Bond villain.”

 

The man smirked down at her and casually stepped out of the reach of her foot. “I am Lieutenant General Thaddeus Ross, at your service, my dear Mrs. Banner,” he said, giving her a mocking little bow. “Does that name ring a bell?”

 

“Oh, _fuck,”_ said Darcy incredulously. “Fuck. Seriously? Damn it.”

 

“So, you _do_ know who I am, then.”

 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “The asshole that’s been chasing Bruce all over the world for the last couple of years? Yeah, I know.”

 

Ross’s jaw twitched. “Dr. Banner is _dangerous;_ he’sa menace and a fugitive who stole top secret information from the United States Army, and I am _pursuing_ him as is my duty.”

 

Darcy tugged against her restraints, huffing in frustration when her wrists remained tightly bound. _If I were Natasha,_ she thought enviously, _I could just twist around and untie myself with my toes._  “And by ‘top secret information,’ you mean his _own fucking body?”_ she asked sarcastically, flopping back onto the mattress in defeat.

 

Ross leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “That _body_ contains DNA modifications that, if perfected, will be of great value to the United States military,” he said fervently. “Can you imagine the might America could wield with a whole army of super soldiers?” His eyes narrowed. “As far as I’m concerned, Bruce Banner’s blood is the _property_ of the United States government and he is a _traitor_ to this country by withholding such valuable resources. And I _hate_ traitors.”

 

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” Darcy hissed.

 

Ross laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “ _I_ am? Says the woman who went and _married_ him?”

 

“I married him because I _love_ him, you dick.”

 

“‘Love him?’ Tell me,” Ross sneered, “do you service the monster as well as the man? Is one of him not enough for you?”

 

“Fuck you,” Darcy spat. “Hulk’s not a monster.”

 

Ross laughed again. “You love that grotesque _thing_? Even my _daughter,_ disappointment that she is, wasn’t depraved enough to _stay_ with Banner after he became that abomination.” He straightened up and a nasty smile came over his features. “He loved her very much, you know,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Even the _monster_ cared for her, as much as an animal can.” His eyes crawled over Darcy’s face. “You know, you look a little bit like Betty. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were nothing more than a convenient substitute for my daughter. I wonder, does he think _her_ name while he’s in _your_ bed?” He dragged his eyes scornfully down her body. “You are a _poor_ copy, I must say, and, of course, a _much_ younger model,” he said. “How old _are_ you, anyway, seventeen?”

 

“I’m _twenty-three,_ shithead,” said Darcy, trying not to let him see how the jibe hit home. She’d always kind of wondered if part of Bruce’s attraction to her was her passing resemblance to Betty but had never been brave enough to ask him about it.

 

“And how old is he, again? Forty? Forty-five?”

 

“None of your goddamn _business,_ that’s how old; you’re not _my_ father.” Darcy glared up at him. “And besides, it’s _your_ fault that Bruce ended things with Betty, anyway, after what you did to her.”

 

Ross’s face twisted in anger. “ _I_ would _never_ harm my own daughter,” he snarled, jabbing one finger at her. “ _I’m_ not the one who put her and an entire platoon in the hospital, and killed even more good, honest American soldiers. _I’m_ not the one who destroyed over two million dollars’ worth of government property in less than fifteen minutes.”

 

“But you _are_ the one who pointed a shit ton of _tanks_ at Hulk’s _head._ What did you _think_ he was gonna do, daintily set them aside? Politely request that they kindly move out of his way? What would _you_ do if someone fired a bazooka at _you?”_  

 

Ross’s features darkened and he slapped her across the face with one large hand, hard enough to jerk her head to the side, the sound of it echoing in the small, bare room. “You shut up,” he snarled, his face twisting into an ugly grimace. “Don’t _ever_ compare me to that beast again. You have _no idea_ what you’re talking about, you stupid little girl.” 

 

“Don’t I?” Darcy shot back. Her face felt like it was on fire, but she ignored it. “Bruce and Hulk have saved the world a hundred times, you asshole. So just leave him the fuck alone.”

 

Ross glowered and turned away, reaching for something out of her line of sight. He turned back to face her and held up a hand, and Darcy saw that he’d taken her taser out of her purse. “You know, this is quite a weapon you have here, Mrs. Banner,” he said thoughtfully, his lips curling up in a contemplative smile.  He glanced at the device in his hand. “It looks new,” he mused, turning his cold eyes back to her. “Why don’t we make sure it works?”  


	7. In Joy and in Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t worry, though,” said Natasha as she adjusted a knife strapped to her thigh, “we’ll rough him up good for you.”

“You know,” said Tony conversationally, as he entered the lab where Bruce was scanning satellite images, “that’s really kind of weird.”

 

“What is,” asked Bruce, dragging his gaze from the screen to look at the other man.

 

“Your eyes,” said Tony, squinting as he peered at Bruce’s face. “They’re _green._ And sort of glowy. It’s freaky. _”_

 

“Ah,” Bruce replied, his voice tight. “It’s getting harder and harder to contain him. He’s getting impatient.”

 

“Don’t worry, big man. We’ll find her soon,” said Tony, giving Bruce a pat on the shoulder.

 

“You said that five _hours_ ago,” Bruce snapped, his green eyes flashing with an emerald fire behind his glasses. “And you all _keep_ saying that, but we _haven’t_ found her yet. And meanwhile, Thaddeus _fucking_ Ross is doing God knows _what_ to my wife _,_ simply because she had the audacity to _love_ me; and with every minute we don’t find her, he’s doing _more._ So either tell me you know where she is, or _shut the hell up.”_ He breathed in sharply through his nose and clenched his fists so tightly the tendons in his forearms stood out and he could feel his nails biting into the soft flesh of his palms.

 

“Hey, don’t yell at me. We’re doing all we can; we care about Darcy, too, you know. But this mole is better hidden than we thought. Just you watch, though; any minute now, everybody’s favorite Russian is going to come sailing through that door right over there and say—“

 

“We found him,” said Natasha, bursting into the room.

 

“See?” said Tony, turning to grin at Bruce. “Told you.”

 

“Banner, you should probably stay here,” said Clint, leaning against the doorjamb as he adjusted his wrist guard. “Fury ordered us to keep the guy alive. Me, I personally wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if you or the Hulk threw the son of a bitch straight to Hell. But Fury wants him alive and, given your grip on the green guy at the moment is….”

 

“Tenuous?” said Bruce, with a sardonic huff of a laugh.

 

“Yeah,” said Clint. “Can’t risk you squishing the bastard before we get what we need.”

 

“Don’t worry, though,” said Natasha as she adjusted a knife strapped to her thigh, “we’ll rough him up good for you.”

 

“We guarantee it,” Clint added, his blue eyes cold.

 

“Stark, you should stay with Banner,” said Natasha, her gaze on Bruce. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

 

“Roger that,” said Tony, giving her a jaunty salute. He threw an arm over Bruce’s shoulders.  “Come on, big guy, let’s see if we can find Darcy before that jackass talks.”

 

* * *

 

Natasha sighed and looked down at her nails, a bored expression on her face. “Okay, _Tyler_ ,” she said, “let’s try that again.”  She nodded at Clint, who shifted his grip on the ankles of the young man he was currently dangling out the window of an abandoned office on the sixty-fifth floor of Stark Tower.

 

“I swear to God, I don’t know!” Tyler exclaimed. “All I had to do was tell them her schedule, and give them a picture of her; I don’t know why they even wanted it! I’m sorry; I needed the money!”

 

Clint snorted. “Is the pay with SHIELD _really_ so bad that you’d give up the wife of the fucking _Hulk_ for money and not ask _why_? Or are you just that stupid?”

 

“I have loans to pay off!” exclaimed Tyler. “Grad school was expensive.”

 

“Try again, басран,” said Natasha, as she casually sat on the corner of the windowsill. Pulling out the knife she’d strapped to her thigh, she ran a finger lovingly down the serrated edge of the blade. “I know for a fact SHIELD pays them off for you,” she said, her eyes following her fingers as they caressed the steel in her hands. “Darcy would _not_ shut up about how great that was when she first started working here.” 

 

“Besides,” said Clint, his pleasant tone in contrast to his crushing grip on Tyler’s ankles, “you come from good family, right? Daddy paid your way through college, according to your file, buddy boy. Now, either tell us the truth, or my fingers might just slip.”

 

“I…” Tyler’s whole body slackened in defeat. “I owe a _lot_ of money, okay? To bad people.”

 

“Oh, God, seriously? Are you really _that_ much of a cliché?” asked Natasha derisively, sliding the knife back into its holster and turning cold eyes back onto Tyler.

 

Tyler started to speak again, but Natasha continued before he could say anything.

 

“You know what, I don’t even care anymore. I’m getting bored,” she declared, standing back up straight and running a hand casually through her hair. “Just drop him, Clint; we can apologize to Fury later.”

 

“ _I don’t know; I swear I don’t know!”_ Tyler shrieked, in fear for his life. “I swear, all I know is that it was for some bigwig general named Ross who hates Doctor Banner.”

 

Natasha sighed, as though disappointed. “Tyler,” she said, her voice dangerously soft, “we already _knew_ that _._ Tell me something that makes me want to _stop_ Agent Barton from letting your worthless carcass splatter on the sidewalk.”

 

“Darcy Banner is a very good friend to both Agent Romanov and me,” Clint added, the deceptively pleasant tone still in his voice. “And we don’t like it when people hurt our friends. Now, my arms arestarting to get a little sore from all this dangling, Ty, and I’m really starting to wonder if there’s a reason why I shouldn’t just give my poor tired arms a rest.”

 

 “The only other thing I know is they mentioned something about some abandoned compound near Niagara somewhere.” Tyler was crying in earnest, now. “I swear to fucking God, I swear…” he trailed off, choking on his own terror.

 

Natasha’s lip curled in disgust. “Ugh,” she said. “You’re not even worthy to be a notch in my belt, you fucking coward.” She jerked her head at Clint, who pulled Tyler back inside the room and dropped him unceremoniously to the floor. Tyler shifted into a seated position and swiped his hand across his streaming eyes as a few SHIELD agents came into the room.

 

“Get him out of my sight,” Natasha sneered at the agents. Just as they were leading a nearly incoherent Tyler out of the room, she called, “You’d better be glad it was _me_ , and not Darcy’s husband, who came after you, мудак. He wouldn’t have been nearly as gentle with you as I was.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google tells me "басран" means “punk,” and is pronounced "basran;" and "мудак" means "asshole," and is pronounced "mudak."


	8. Through All the Trials of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Such a delightful young lady you are. What did Bruce Banner do to deserve such a genteel and demure little wife?”

Darcy gritted her teeth and tried not to give Ross the satisfaction of hearing her scream again. _Hey, at least I know it works the way it’s supposed to,_ she thought sarcastically as she heard the flickering buzz of him firing up her taser once again. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been at it, but it felt as though years had gone by since he’d entered the room and started questioning her.

 

“Tell me, Mrs. Banner,” he said conversationally, pressing the taser into the skin just above her hip, causing her to involuntarily cry out in pain, “is that abomination _worth_ all of this?”

 

“Fuck you,” she choked out through her clenched jaw. “When he gets here, he is going to rip you limb from limb like a paper doll, and I will _enjoy_ every goddamn second of it.”

 

He smirked at her. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, my dear,” he said. “I have a whole battalion of hand-picked men guarding this compound, thirty of them surrounding this building. All of them are sharpshooters, and all of them have orders to kill you if that beast so much as roars in my direction.”

 

“I told you not to talk about him like that,” Darcy snarled, trying to ignore the way every one of her muscles were twitching, each little spasm causing pain to radiate through her body. Her throat was sore and her wrists were raw and chafing from her constant twisting against the restraints.

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” said Ross, leaning in and grabbing her hair in a painfully tight grip with the hand not holding the taser, yanking her head back until their eyes met. “Do you not like to be confronted with the fact that your dear spouse is a mindless brute when he gets angry? Or do you just ignore it?”

 

“Hulk’s not _mindless,”_ objected Darcy. “He’s perfectly capable of being reasonable.”

 

“Oh, is he, now?” Ross sneered. He suddenly tightened his grip until it felt like he was about to pull her scalp right off of her head. “I’ve seen what he can do,” he spat at her, so forcefully that spittle landed on her nose. “I’ve witnessed it; watched good men _die_ at his monstrous hands. So don’t you _dare_ tell me he’s anything more than a raving animal that needs to be put in a cage, you stupid bitch.”

 

“ _Shut up.”_ Darcy was nearly growling, rage blazing through her body like wildfire, and she really wished that _she_ had the ability to Hulk out; because right now, she wanted nothing more than to throw Ross as hard as she could against the wall and hear the satisfying crunches as she broke every bone in his body. “What the fuck do you even _want_ from me?” she asked.

 

“ _From_ you _,”_ Ross said, his tone amused, releasing her hair and dropping her head back down onto the thin mattress beneath her, “nothing. You, my dear Mrs. Banner, are nothing more than _bait._ ”

 

“What are you talking about?” Darcy asked; dread settling like a hard lump in the pit of her stomach.

 

“Very soon, if they haven’t already, your husband and his team of super friends will discover the identity of my informant; a spineless but useful little twerp by the name of Tyler Barnes,” Ross explained, making emphatic gestures with the taser as he spoke. “And he will tell them what he knows, which, of course, is just enough to lead them _here._ At which point, I will _finally_ get my hands on what I’ve spent _far_ too long hunting.”

 

“What’s that,” Darcy sniped, “your sanity? I’m pretty sure that’s so far gone, not even Sergei Kravinoff could find it. ”

 

“You see,” Ross continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “When he comes, I will give him a choice: either he agrees to come with me and allow our researchers to use his body to study that serum he was working on…or you die. It’s his decision, really.”

 

“He’ll never do it,” said Darcy, shaking her head firmly. “Not in a million years.”

 

“Oh?” said Ross. “Are you so sure about that? Not even for _you,_ his sweet little _wife?_ You have such faithin him. _”_

 

“Oh, he’ll say yes, but I sure as hell won’t let him go through with it,” Darcy replied stubbornly. “I’m not giving up my husband to _anyone,_ especially not to dipshits like you and your little band of mad scientists. You’ll never take him.”

 

“Ah, such loyalty,” said Ross with a contemptuous smile. “But I don’t expect to have to _take him._ He will simply surrender, to save your pathetic life.”

 

“I already told him he’s not allowed to be a martyr,” Darcy said. “So you might as well just quit while you’re ahead before he crushes you into powder, you crazy son of a bitch.”

 

“Such a _delightful_ young lady you are,” said Ross sarcastically, digging the taser into her neck with far more vehemence than before. “What _did_ Bruce Banner do to deserve such a genteel and demure little wife?”

 

“Hulk is going to fucking _kill_ you,” Darcy gritted out, as soon as the white-hot pain had receded enough for her to talk again.

 

“You know, now that you mention it, I rather hope he does,” purred Ross. “Just think of it. He’ll burst in here, take care of me, and then he’ll turn to you. And in his rage, he won’t know who you are; he won’t _care._ He’ll kill you too, simply because you’re _here,_ and then, when he’s Banner again, he’ll look down and see your broken body at his feet, and your blood on his hands, and he’ll know _exactly_ how much of a monster he really is.”  He reached down and gently pushed a strand of Darcy’s hair out of her face, tracing his fingers down her jaw line in a parody of a caress that made her shiver with revulsion. “It’s almost poetic, really, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

Darcy opened her mouth to respond, but froze when she heard a familiar deafening roar. Ross turned toward the sound of the noise and smiled. “Right on time,” he said, and Darcy’s heart clenched. __


	9. Where You Go, I Will Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Darcy not hurt, Hulk not smash puny soldiers. Darcy broken, Hulk rip them to pieces.”

The only noise in the lab was the beeping of the monitors and the low murmurs of Tony talking with JARVIS.  Bruce had given up trying to actually do anything, and was now slumped over onto the worktable, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and breathing deeply as he silently counted backwards from one thousand in every language he knew in an effort to keep the Other Guy at bay. He’d started with Portuguese and worked his way through French, Spanish, and Urdu; he was making his way down the seven hundreds in Hindi when Steve came through the door.

 

Steve strode into the lab and walked over to put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Doctor Banner,” he said, his voice as warm and gentle as his hand. “Can you hold on just a little bit longer?”

 

“Depends,” Bruce said. His head was pounding now with the effort to keep the Other Guy contained, throbbing in time with each heartbeat, and he could tell the Other Guy didn’t want to wait another second. “How _much_ longer are we talking about?”

 

“A little more than an hour,” said Steve. “Can he wait until we get to the location?”

 

“So you’ve found them, then?” asked Tony. As Steve turned to answer him, Bruce used that time to confer with the Other Guy.

 

“We believe so,” said Steve. “That mole told Clint and Natasha about an abandoned compound near Niagara Falls. Satellites confirm that there’s an old, unused military base there and that there’s activity going on. Director Fury just heard back from the Joint Chiefs; there shouldn’t be anyone there. Military stopped using it fifteen years ago. CIA and FBI also confirm that they’re not currently using that facility. We’re almost positive that’s where Ross is keeping her.”

 

“Okay,” said Bruce reluctantly, straightening to his full height, every muscle in his body taut. “He’s willing to wait until then. But I am the _first_ one out once we land and there’d better not be anything or anyone breakable in his way or they’re going to get some irreparable damage.”

 

“Great,” said Steve, clapping Bruce on the shoulder. “Then let’s go.”

 

“We’re gonna get her back, buddy,” said Tony in a low voice as they followed Steve towards the hangar. “She’s the closest thing we have to a mascot, after all. You think we should look into getting her a costume when we get back?”

 

Bruce just shook his head, and something halfway between a laugh and a sob escaped his throat.

 

* * *

 

The moment the jet touched the ground, before Clint had even finished powering down the engines, Bruce was out of his seat and standing by the door. He pounded on it with one fist. “Get this thing open,” he growled, the Hulk’s deep voice bleeding into his own. He could see his hand was beginning to turn green and could hear the seams of his clothes starting to tear as his muscles bulged. Steve’s widening eyes confirmed that the Other Guy had already started working his way out from beneath Bruce’s skin. The doors opened and Bruce dashed into the clearing as fast as he could. The Other Guy burst forward, ripping away the last remnants of Bruce’s control, and, for once, it felt good to let him out; Bruce succumbed to the transformation with a sigh of relief.

 

Hulk roared, loudly and for a long time, finally free to voice the rage and worry that had been building up in the hours since Darcy’s disappearance. He turned and saw Steve coming cautiously towards him and curled his lips up over his teeth in a furious grimace.

 

**“ _Where_?” ** he snarled, the bloodlust evident in his voice. **“Where Ross?”**

 

“We still have to find them,” said Steve, pulling his shield off his back and sliding it onto his arm. “We know they’re at this compound, but we don’t know exactly where Darcy is yet. She could be in any of these buildings.”

 

Hulk’s green eyes narrowed, gleaming maliciously as he gazed at the compound’s walls. **“Hulk tear their arms and legs off,”** he suggested. **“Then puny soldiers tell Hulk where Darcy is.”**

“No,” said Steve. He was unable to contain his flinch as Hulk turned those livid jade eyes onto him, but he stood his ground, reflexively tightening his grip on his shield. “ _No_ killing,” he ordered. “Darcy wouldn’t want you to kill anyone if you didn’t have to.”

 

Hulk huffed, as though conceding that point. **“Hulk smash them a little?”** he asked.

 

“ _No_ killing,” Steve repeated sternly.  “I mean it. Our objective is to get Darcy out of there with as little bloodshed as possible.”

 

Hulk’s jaw worked furiously as he thought. **“Hulk smash them how they smash Darcy,”** he said finally, clenching his large hands into fists. **“Darcy not hurt, Hulk not smash puny soldiers. Darcy broken, Hulk rip them to pieces.”**

“Fair enough,” Steve conceded after a slight hesitation. “But until we know how badly she’s hurt, err on the side of caution, got it?”

 

“Now that we’ve got _that_ out of the way,” piped up Tony, hovering near Hulk’s shoulder, “you mind letting them know we’re here, big guy?”

 

Hulk grunted and stormed toward the gates of the compound, swinging his fists. The large reinforced metal gates, which had been shut and locked tight by the soldiers in preparation for their arrival, didn’t stand a chance against the full might of a worried and infuriated Hulk. They crumpled before him as though made of cardboard, and Hulk reached down with one giant hand and grabbed the first soldier he saw. Yanking the soldier up to his face, he roared, **“ _Where Darcy?”_** at the man. When the man didn’t answer, Hulk cast a sideways glance at Steve and then tapped the frightened solider on the top of his head with his other hand, knocking the man unconscious. Hulk dropped the man, who crumpled bonelessly to the ground, and reached for another one, repeating the ritual. Hulk made his way further into the camp, grabbing soldiers at random and thumping them into unconsciousness.

 

The rest of the Avengers watched curiously. “Is he… _bopping_ them?” asked Clint, tilting his head to get a better angle.

 

“Oh, for the love of God,” said Tony, and the amusement in his voice was evident even through the filter of his suit, “he’s Little Bunny Foo-Foo.”

 

“Well then,” said Natasha as she fired up her Widow’s Bite, “let’s get moving before the Good Fairy drops by and ruins all our fun.” 

 

 


	10. You Are All That I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You see that?” Ross asked. “That was a warning. One step closer and the next one goes right between your dear wife’s pretty blue eyes.”

“Do you hear that?” Ross asked. “Your _dashing_ knight and his band of merry men have come to rescue you. We don’t want to disappoint them, now, do we?” He pulled a utility knife from his belt and cut Darcy’s bonds, causing her hands to tingle as the blood rushed back into them. She hissed in pain as he grabbed her arm and dragged her off the bed, hauling her to her feet.  “Let’s go,” he said. “I think it’s about time I gave Bruce my congratulations on his choice of bride.”

 

Ross half-led, half-dragged her out of the small room and up the stairs. Darcy made an effort to wrest herself from his grasp, but her body wasn’t cooperating after hours of lying on a bed and being zapped with electricity, and she barely managed to keep herself standing up and conscious as Ross tugged her along with him. They passed a few guards on their way out of the building, and as they all shot to attention at Ross’s presence, Darcy wondered exactly what he’d told them about her that made them willing to ignore the fact that their commanding officer had illegally kidnapped and obviously tortured a civilian, and a pretty young woman, at that.

 

“Let me _go,_ damn it!” she exclaimed as she tripped over the doorjamb. Ross growled, annoyed, and yanked her upright and through the door. She squeezed her eyes shut as they stepped into bright sunshine, unaccustomed to the light after all that time in the dimly lit basement room. After a few moments, she opened them and her jaw dropped as she saw the Avengers fighting with Ross’s men on the other side of the compound. She could see Tony, in his suit, flying over the roofs of the buildings, and she saw Hulk leaping around, and felt the ground shaking slightly each time he landed.

 

“Come on,” Ross growled as he stalked toward the skirmish, towing her with him. “Time to go say hello.”

 

Tony saw them first and yelled to the others as he landed and flipped up his faceplate. The other Avengers stopped their battles and turned to face Ross. Ross’s men, taking the precious moments they had, grabbed their weapons and pointed them at the heroes.

 

“Now,” said Ross loudly, pulling Darcy closer to him, “before any of you get any _ideas,_ I want you all to know that I’ve got the best snipers in the Army here with me, perched all across this compound. All of them have their sights set on the lovely Mrs. Banner, here, and if any of you so much as twitches towards me, or reaches for a weapon, her dead body will hit the ground before your blow lands, is that understood?”

 

Hulk roared in reply, and it was so ferocious a few of the soldiers standing in his path almost fell over from the force of it. He took a step forward, but froze when a shot rang out and the ground in front of Darcy sprayed dirt up where a bullet had landed about an inch away from her left foot.

 

“You see that?” Ross asked. “That was a warning. One step closer and the next one goes right between your dear wife’s pretty blue eyes.” Hulk’s jaw was clenched so tightly Darcy could almost hear his teeth grinding together, and she heard him growling low in his throat as he reached up and tugged on his hair in agitation, but he stayed where he was.

 

_I must really look like shit,_ Darcy thought absently, because all of them, from Thor to her big green husband, had the same reaction when they looked at her. Their eyes would soften with concern, and then slowly harden with a vengeful resolve as their gazes turned back to Ross.

 

“This is how it’s going to work,” said Ross, uncaring that Earth’s Mightiest Heroes were all mentally planning his slow and painful death, even Captain Goddamn America. “The monster known as the Hulk is going to surrender quietly to my men. Once he is secured, I will release Mrs. Banner to your care. You will _leave._ If you ever try to recover him, or he tries to escape, I will have Mrs. Banner killed. Got it?”

 

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Darcy asked. “Go chase down terrorists, or the FBI’s Most Wanted, or find something _useful_ to do instead of wasting your time going after Bruce.”

 

 “I _will_ have that Super Solider serum,” Ross hissed, “if it’s the last thing I do.”

 

Upon hearing that, Steve dropped his shield and stepped forward, raising his hands in surrender. “If it’s the serum you want,” he said, “why don’t you take _me?_ I’m the one with the original formula in my blood. You want someone to study, take me instead.”

 

“Enough,” Ross snarled, and his fingers tightened even further on her arm, causing Darcy to audibly wince as her already sore muscles were bruised by his crushing grip. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve’s jaw tighten and Thor’s hand clench around his hammer.

 

At her flinch, Hulk started forward again. **“Ross hurt Darcy,”** he bellowed. **“Hulk _smash_ Ross!” **

“No,” Darcy yelled. “Honey, please; don’t come any closer!”

 

**“Hulk make _promise_ to Darcy _,”_** he replied, his large hands twitching in frustration even as he obeyed her. **“Hulk must _keep_ promise.”  **The desperation in his voice made her heart ache.

“I know, baby,” she called back around the sudden lump in her throat. “I know.”

You’ve tangled with the wrong team, Ross,” Tony piped up suddenly. “Nobody takes our mascot and gets away with it.”

 

“Mascot?” Darcy echoed, tossing her head, despite the fact that the movement caused the headache forming behind her eyes to bloom into a full-blown migraine. “Fuck that; I’m not your damn _mascot._ ”

 

“While this is all _quite_ touching,” Ross sneered, “I want an answer, _Hulk.”_

 

Before anyone could answer him, there was a thump and a groan from the roof of a nearby building, and it suddenly dawned on Darcy that Clint and Natasha were no longer with the rest of the group.

 

Ross, keeping his death grip on Darcy’s forearm, turned to look at the source of the noise. His jaw dropped as Natasha elbowed a sniper in the nose and, as he fell to the roof, she smoothly bent down and snatched his rifle from its tripod. She held it up to her shoulder and aimed it at Ross’s head. “That’s the last of them, Cap,” she called. “We’re all clear.”

 

“Clear over here, too,” said Clint from another building, as he brought his bow up and aimed at the soldiers down in the clearing.

 

Hulk turned an accusing glare onto Steve. **“You tell Hulk only smash a little!”** he exclaimed. **“Red Lady and Arrow Man not smash a little!”**

“Sorry,” said Steve. “But I knew they’d be more careful about it. After all, it’s not _their_ wife that’s in danger.”

 

“But, hey,” said Tony, shrugging casually, even as his eyes narrowed, “You can probably smash Ross all to hell now, if you want. I think we’d be okay with that.”

 

“That seems true justice,” agreed Thor, smiling grimly as his fingers tightened around Mjolnir.

 

Steve hesitated, but did not object.

 

Before anyone could react, Ross let go of Darcy, only to wrap his arm around her neck and tug her body against his so tightly the edges of her vision went hazy. He snatched his gun out of its holster and pressed it to Darcy’s temple, digging it into her skin. “Anyone moves," he snarled, "and I put a bullet in her brain."

 


	11. We Were Made for Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am not Princess motherfucking Peach. And my husband’s not the only one who knows the value of a well-placed smashing.”

Darcy wheezed, trying not to panic as Ross’s arm pressed firmly against her throat. Her fingers had automatically reached up and curled around his forearm, and her eyes darted about fearfully as her mind frantically tried to come up with a way out of this mess that didn’t involve her getting her brains blown out by General Nutjob. As her gaze landed on Clint, still perched on his rooftop, she suddenly heard his voice in her head. _Don’t be afraid to fight dirty. Remember, I’m an evil bastard._ Well, now she _was_ trying to get away from an evil bastard who was trying to kill her. Those lessons, and all the bruises and achy muscles that had gone along with them, were about to pay off.  

 

Silently thanking Bruce for being such a worrier and convincing her to ask Clint and Natasha to teach her in the first place, Darcy released Ross’s arm. She tilted her head forward as far as she could manage and then slammed it back into Ross’s face with all her might. She smirked inwardly when she heard a satisfying crack as her head met his nose, but she couldn’t hold back a hiss of pain as the throbbing in her head spiked even higher at the contact.

 

Ross swore in surprise and loosened his grip on her, and before he could tighten it again (or shoot her) she drew back her elbow and jabbed him in the groin as hard as she could.  He gasped in pain and bent over, and as Darcy tore herself from his grasp, she spun around and snatched the gun out of his slack hand, stepping back out of his reach and pointing the gun at his bent head.

 

“I am _not_ Princess motherfucking Peach,” she declared as she reached up to push her hair out of her face, studiously ignoring the trembling in her limbs. “And my husband’s not the only one who knows the value of a well-placed smashing.”

 

Ross’s only reply was a pained groan, and Darcy couldn’t help but take satisfaction in his agony. _Serves you right, you asshole,_ she thought vindictively as she tossed the gun away, far out of his reach _._

 

 She heard a growl and turned around to see Hulk stalking towards them, fists clenched tightly and murder in his eyes. His stormy gaze was locked on the man on his knees behind her; she could see the anger building in his expression with every step he took, and Darcy knew that if Hulk got his hands on Ross, there was no way Ross would get out of here alive. 

 

Ever since she’d first awakened to Ross glowering down at her, she’d been waiting for the moment when Hulk would charge up and shred the man into teeny little bitty pieces (she’d planned on finding some popcorn and kicking back to cheer him on); but now, all she wanted was for this whole thing to be over so they could go home.  She took a deep breath, and then stepped forward and held out her arms to Hulk, hoping that she could break through the rage before it completely overwhelmed him. “No,” she said. It came out as an inaudible squeak, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “No, please, don’t.”

 

Hulk came to a stop just out of her reach. **“Ross steal Darcy. Try to break her,”** he gritted out between his clenched teeth, his nostrils flaring as he glared over her head at the man in question. **“Hulk _kill_ Ross. Hulk protect Darcy. Keep promise,” **he growled, shaking one large green fist in Ross’s direction.

 

“Please,” she said, her voice shaking, and she couldn’t even bring herself to be annoyed about the tears she could feel starting to leak out the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want you to do that. Right now, the only thing I want is for you to hold me and tell me everything’s okay.”

 

She saw him hesitate for a moment, eyes still fixed on Ross. Slowly, his flinty gaze slid to her and melted into something warm, and she quickly found herself being scooped up and pressed against his strong bare chest. One large hand came up to lightly cup the back of her head, and she felt him kneel and curl himself around her, engulfing her protectively in his arms. **“Darcy safe now,”** he said, his voice soft and low as he tenderly stroked one large finger along her hair. **“All okay.”**

Darcy could see, beneath Hulk’s arm, that the rest of the team suddenly found their feet, or the cloud formations above them, extremely interesting and worthy of their full attention. Tony even started whistling innocently, bouncing up and down on his toes, and Darcy couldn’t help but smile a bit as she snuggled more deeply into her husband’s embrace, taking comfort in the heat of his skin and the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.  

 

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Natasha was off her rooftop and behind Ross, cuffing him roughly and yanking him to his feet. “And right there is more proof that Darcy’s a better woman than I’ll ever be, выродок,” she hissed coldly in his ear. “I would have enjoyed watching the Hulk destroy you, the way a disgusting worm like you deserves. But who knows,” she added hopefully, as she started dragging him off to the jet, “the day is still young. And maybe he’ll be nice enough to let me get a crack at you. I know a _lot_ more ways to kill a man than he does. And, unlike Banner, I won’t lose any sleep over slitting your repulsive throat.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Google, “выродок” is an extremely insulting term that means “degenerate,” but implies that your mom should have left you to die when you were a baby because you grew into such a horrific creature. It is pronounced, “vyrodok.”


	12. As Long As We Both Shall Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The first thing I’m going to do is have glorious reunion sex with my husband. Then I’ll take a shower and change my clothes. Then you can take me to visit your buddies with the big-ass needles. Okay?”

Bruce awoke to find himself sitting on the floor of the jet, naked. Darcy was curled up in his lap, her head on his shoulder and, judging by the evenness of the breaths wafting across his chest, she was asleep. He lifted one hand from where it rested on her hip and gently pushed a strand of her hair away from her face, lightly kissing her temple as he tucked the hair behind her ear. As he felt himself becoming calm for the first time in what felt like days, he looked up to see Steve watching them.

 

“Welcome back, Doctor Banner,” said Steve warmly, leaning in and keeping his voice low so as not to awaken Darcy.

 

“Thanks,” said Bruce. “How is she?”

 

“She seems fine,” Steve replied. “Some bruising on her arms and wrists, but other than that, we haven’t had the opportunity to look her over yet.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Steve smiled. “You didn’t want to let her go.”

 

Bruce looked down at his wife and tightened his grip around her. Despite the fact that it would be nice to put on some pants, he had no desire to move her in order to clothe himself. He looked back up at Steve. “What happened with Ross?” he asked. Whatever had happened, the Other Guy was pleased with the outcome; Bruce could feel a sense of pride and satisfaction coming from his corner of Bruce’s mind, though it was tinged with a hint of disappointment.

 

“Oh, man,” Tony burst in gleefully, from his seat next to Steve. “It was _awesome._ Ross did the whole ‘I’m An Evil Villain, Hear Me Roar,’ shtick and then Darcy kicked his ass.”

 

“Technically,” Clint piped up from the cockpit, “she elbowed his balls. I taught her that move, by the way.”

 

“ _Then,”_ Tony continued, eyes gleaming with delight, “to top it off, she got your angrier half to cuddle with her in public instead of playing Whack-a-Mole with Ross’s head.”

 

Bruce blinked. “Cuddle?”

 

“Well, maybe _snuggle_ would be more accurate,” said Tony thoughtfully. “Either way, the big guy isn’t nearly as shy as you are about PDA with your hot wife.”

 

“General Ross is in our custody,” said Steve, nudging Tony reproachfully and changing the subject. “Thor is keeping an eye on him.”

 

“Maybe _he_ can play Whack-A-Mole with Ross’s head,” Tony suggested, glancing over to the other side of the jet, where Thor stood, towering over a bound Ross and glowering down in divine anger at the general. “He’s got a hammer, after all.”

 

Bruce started to ask another question, but Darcy stirred and he pushed Ross from his mind to focus on her. She opened her eyes, blinking sleepily. She tilted her head up to see him watching her, and a slow smile crept across her face. “Hi, there,” she said.

 

“Hello,” he replied, smiling back, gently cupping her cheek with one hand. “Are you okay?”

 

“I am now,” she said as she reached up and wrapped one hand around his neck. She sat up a bit and pressed their foreheads together.  “God, Bruce,” she breathed. “I’m so fucking happy to see you; you have no idea.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I do, sweetheart,” he replied, curling his other arm around her waist and pulling her closer, pressing a relieved kiss to her lips, uncaring that Steve and Tony were watching. Steve, at least, was _pretending_ not to look (Tony didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he was gawking). “How are you feeling?”

 

“Like one big bruise,” she said, wincing as she shifted a bit in his lap. “But nothing a hot shower and a few massages can’t fix.”

 

“The first thing you’re doing when we get back is going straight to the infirmary,” said Bruce firmly, dropping his hand from her face to her arm,  tracing one finger down the black and blue marks on her bicep.

 

“Uh, no,” she replied, twining her fingers into the hair at his nape. “The first thing I’m going to do is have glorious reunion sex with my husband. Then I’ll take a shower and change my clothes. _Then_ you can take me to visit your buddies with the big-ass needles. Okay?”

 

Bruce draped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Okay.”

 

She dropped her hand from his neck and wound both arms around his torso, snuggling into him and pressing a kiss to his chest. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, and they spent the rest of the ride back to Stark Tower in contented silence.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Fury announced a few days later, as the group gathered once again in the conference room.

 

“Please tell me that the good news is that they’re finally making that _Arrested Development_ movie,” said Darcy.

 

“What?” asked Fury, blinking in confusion. “What the fuck is that? How the hell should I know about a fucking movie? No.”

 

“Damn,” said Darcy and Tony in unison, slumping back in their chairs, identical expressions of disappointment on their faces.

 

“ _Anyway,”_ said Fury, rolling his eye. “The good news is that Ross is going away for the rest of his life.”

 

“Great,” said Steve. “What’s the bad news, then?”

 

“He’s not getting court-martialed or going to prison,” said Fury. “Insanity plea got him sent to a clinic. A nice cushy one upstate. And he’s being given a quiet retirement. ”

 

“Fuck that shit,” said Clint angrily. “You heard what he did to Darcy. That asshole deserves to be shot. About twelve times. In the face.”

 

Thor’s brow furrowed. “Is it the usual practice of this realm to treat such a man thus? To allow him to live out his life in comfort and solitude?  On Asgard, he would have been forced to face Doctor Banner in a trial by combat to answer for the crimes he committed against Lady Darcy. He deserves for all to know the shame of his actions; for no man of honor harms those he knows to be weaker than himself.”  

 

“You mean Natasha _doesn’t_ get to use him as her practice dummy?” asked Tony. “‘Cause she said she was going to, and I was really looking forward to watching that and live blogging the whole thing. I had JARVIS set up a tumblr for it and everything.”

 

“Between us?” said Fury, sighing, as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I would’ve let her. And I probably would’ve followed that blog, too. But punishing Ross was not in SHIELD’s jurisdiction. It was pulled out of our hands by the higher-ups, who wanted it taken care of quickly and quietly.  What’s done is done. He’s out of our hair, Darcy’s been cleared by medical and is recovering, we’re moving on. Got it?”  

 

“Right,” said Bruce stiffly, his fingers starting to curl into fists, and he felt a familiar tension settle into his muscles. “Okay. Move on. That’ll be easy.”

 

Darcy reached over and gently twined her fingers with his. He glanced over at her and reluctantly twitched the corner of his mouth up in answer to her understanding smile. She scooted her chair closer to his so she could lean over and rest her head on his shoulder, and he visibly relaxed as she settled herself against him.

 

“We should do something,” Darcy said as she curled her free hand around Bruce’s elbow.  “Bruce and me. We should get out of town for a few days. Clear our heads.”

 

“Did you have anywhere particular in mind?” Bruce asked, smiling down at her.

 

“Well,” said Darcy teasingly, lifting her head and raising an eyebrow at her husband. “You do owe me a honeymoon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you for your comments, kudos, and support through this story! Another WIP finished! And yes, there will probably be another story wherein they go on that honeymoon, but I am probably going to focus on "This Must Be Magic" first. :D


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